Sorry It Took So Long
by XxmerthurcatxX
Summary: Cas and Dean used to be best friends. When high school started Dean ditched Cas in favor of being popular. What happens when Mr. Singer assigns Cas to tutor Dean is English? Rated T for boyXboy kissing. Destiel


Cas's POV

I hurried down the hall, trying to get to my next class as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, because I'm an idiot and decided carrying a stack of books so tall it blocked my view was a good plan, I lost my balance trying to hold all said books and promptly crashed into someone.

I let out a yelp and found myself on my ass on the ground, my books scattered around me. I grumbled and looked up to glare at whoever I bumped into. My angry look fell from my face as I stared up at Dean Winchester, captain of the baseball team.

Flashback (Dean and Cas age 14)

_ I leaned against my locker, waiting for Dean to get out of baseball practice so we could bike to the park together. He walked out of the gym, laughing with his buddies._

_ "Hey Dean, ready to go?" I asked._

_ He didn't say anything, pulling a few things out of his locker while his friends waited._

_ "Are we still on for the park?"_

_ Again he didn't answer._

_ "Dude, are you mad at me or something?"_

_ "Back of loser, he doesn't want to talk to you," one of his friends spat._

_ I glared at him before turning back to Dean, who was staring at the floor. I waited for him to tell the guy off, but it didn't happen. _

_ "Dean?"_

_ He just shook his head._

_ I could feel a lump rising in my throat and I tried to swallow it down, pushing past him and running down that hall. Behind me his friends laughed._

I looked back down, scrambling to gather my books so I could put distance between us quickly.

"Uh, you okay?" Dean asked awkwardly.

I nodded, not looking at him as I got to my feet and rushed past him.

"Dude, he's a freak," I heard his friend say.

You know, I was gonna just walk away and be done with it, but my tolerance for assholes is incredibly low.

"Excuse me," I said, turning around and tapping his friend, Benny, on the shoulder.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"I'm sure that you feel the need to be little others because you're unsatisfied with yourself and it's more than likely you overcompensate with testosterone to make up for your small dick. So, before you go calling someone else a freak, I'd stop and reexamine your own problems," I said calmly, before turning on my heel and heading to my class.

I could hear him sputtering behind me, but apparently he couldn't come up with a good comeback.

"What are you smirking about?" Jo asked as I took my seat.

"Oh nothing. Just told Benny there's no need to insult me just because he has a tiny dick."

"You what?!"

"He called me a freak, so I retaliated," I said, shrugging.

"You're my hero."

"Yeah I know, I'm awesome."

"And so humble," she said, rolling her eyes.

I paused for a moment.

"Dean was with him."

"Really? Did he say anything to you?"

"He asked if I was okay since he accidentally knocked me over in the hall."

"I still don't understand what happened with you guys."

"That makes two of us," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry sweetie."

"It's okay. It's not your fault he ditched me when we got to high school."

"Did you ever tell him how you felt about him or did he just think you were best friends?" she asked.

"Just best friends. And it's feel, not felt," I corrected quietly.

"Whoa, wait, still?"

"He's not exactly easy to get over Jo."

Thankfully the teacher called attention, so I was spared from talking about my pathetic crush on Dean Winchester any further. Well, I say crush, but it's more like…never mind it doesn't matter anyway.

Class flew by, because Mr. Singer had mercy on us for once and had us watch a movie. A boring movie, but it was better than having actual class.

"Castiel, would you mind staying after for minute?" Mr. Singer asked as class ended.

"Uh, sure. Go ahead Jo, I'll catch up," I told her as I stopped at his desk.

He waited until all the other students were gone before he told me why he asked me to stay.

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in tutoring someone."

"Me?"

"You're the best student in this English class, so yes, you."

"Uh, sure. Who is it?" I asked.

"You wanted to see me Mr. Singer."

I jumped at the voice. Oh holy Jesus, please no.

"Yeah Dean, come on in."

I refused to look at him as he came to stand next to Mr. Singer's desk.

"As I'm sure you're aware Dean, you're not doing very well in class."

"Yeah I know," he said, sighing.

"I've asked Castiel here to be your tutor and he's agreed."

"Do I have to?" he asked.

Okay, that hurt. I tried to tell myself it was that he just didn't want to have a tutor and not that he didn't want to be around me, but I knew the truth. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"If you want to pass the class and keep your spot on the baseball team I would highly recommend it," Mr. Singer said seriously.

"Okay, fine."

"I'll let you two work out the details. Now get outta my classroom."

Dean and I walked out of the room together awkwardly.

"So, uh, when do you wanna do this?" he asked.

"I have no life. I guess whenever you're free."

I was still refusing to look at him.

"Tomorrow's Friday so I don't have practice. We could get together after school."

"Okay. Where?"

"I'd say the library, but it's kind of hard to focus with al the people there. My place?"

"Yeah, yeah that works," I said shakily.

"Okay, do you need a ride?"

"No, I have my bike."

"My house is—

"I remember where you live Dean."

"Oh, right. Yeah, so um. Tomorrow at like, 4:00?"

"Sure."

"Cool. See you then."

I nodded and pushed past him, not stopping until I was safely by the bike rack with Jo.

"What'd Singer want?" she asked.

"He…he asked me to tutor Dean."

"Wow. Maybe the universe really does hate you."

I glared at her.

"I told you!"

"When are you starting the whole tutoring thing?"

"Tomorrow, at his place."

"You gonna make it through without dying?"

"Probably not."

"Call me after and tell me how it went."

"I will," I promised.

-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

School flew by the next day and before I new it I was in my bedroom trying to decide what to wear. Not that it really mattered, but I didn't want to look like too much of a slob. After tearing through half of my closet I gave up.

I yanked on a pair of blue jeans and a dark blue sweater. On my feet were my beat up red converse and I hadn't even bothered trying to smooth down what Jo referred to as my "insane sex hair." With a heavy sigh, I slung my bag over my shoulder, headed outside, and got my bike out of the garage.

The ride to Dean's house passed with me giving myself a pep talk. It's not a big deal Castiel. He ditched you freshmen year to be popular. You're juniors now and he's not worth your time. Even if he is gorgeous, funny, and really sweet when he thinks no one's watching. Snap out of it!

I pulled up in front of the house I knew all too well, smiling when I saw that our tree house was still up in the large oak tree in the front yard.

Flashback (Dean and Cas age 11)

_ "Come on Cas!"_

_ Dean grabbed my hand as we ran outside to our tree house. He let me climb up first; keeping close behind me to help in case I slipped. We clambered up the ladder and into the tree house._

_ "Tell me what happened at recess," he demanded._

_ "Crowley was making fun of my braces," I said, sniffling slightly._

_ He scooted forward and wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders._

_ "Don't listen to that jerk. Your braces look fine, and besides you get to have them off in a year."_

_ "I know, but why is he so mean?" I asked._

_ "He probably likes you. Guys tease people they like."_

_ "They do?"_

_ "Well, most guys anyway. It's how they get their attention."_

_ "Do you do that?"_

_ He cleared his throat, shaking his head._

_ "I don't, um, like anyone," he said._

_ "Oh."_

_ I tried not to sound too disappointed, leaning against his shoulder so he wouldn't see my face._

I shook the memory from my mind. With my bike safely against said tree, the same place I parked it for years, I tentatively walked up to the door, knocking three times.

"Just a sec!" I heard from inside.

When the door swung open I was surprised to see Sam standing there instead of Dean.

"Cas?" he asked, like he almost didn't recognize me.

"Hey Sam," I said, smiling up at him.

He pulled me into a hug, slapping my back.

"It's been forever, come in!"

He stepped out of the way to let me into the house. I kicked off my shoes before following Sam into the living room. It looked exactly the same as it did three years ago.

"How have you been?" Sam asked, plopping down on the couch.

"Pretty good. This place hasn't changed much. Can't say the same about you though. How tall are you?"

"Six feet. Gonna be taller than Dean soon," he said proudly.

"Speaking of Dean. Is he up in his room?" I asked.

"Yeah, he probably didn't hear you knock. You can just head up."

"Thanks Sam. We should catch up later."

"Definitely!"

I smiled before heading up to Dean's room. It wasn't really a surprise that music was trickling from his room into the hallway. I tentatively pushed the door open and my eyes instantly fell on Dean, who was sprawled across his bed with his eyes closed, drumming along to the music on his stomach. I cleared my throat to alert him to my presence. He jolted up in bed. My eyes fell to the floor.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to freak you out," I muttered.

"It's okay. Sammy let you in?"

"Yeah."

There was awkward silence for a moment, only filled by the song currently playing out of his speakers.

"Renegade huh? Guess your music taste hasn't changed," I noted.

"Well, you can't go wrong with Styx."

He moved from the bed to switch off the music."

"Should we get started?" he asked.

He sat back down on his bed.

I shifted nervously.

"Uh, you can sit on bed too you know," he offered.

I shuffled forward and sat at the end of the bed, as far away from him as I could get and pulled my books out of my bag.

"I was thinking we could start with poetry since that's what we're working with right now. I'll read a poem and then we can discuss it. Talk about themes and poetic devices and such."

"Sounds good."

"I thought we'd start with a fairly simple one, so this is The Obligation to be Happy by Linda Pastan."

I cleared my throat.

"It is more onerous

than the rights of beauty

or housework harder than love.

But you expect it of me casually,

the way you expect the sun

to come up, not in spite of rain

or clouds but because of them.

And so I smile, as if my own fidelity

to sadness were a hidden vice—

that downward tug on my mouth,

my old suspicion that health

and love are brief irrelevancies,

no more than laughter in the warm dark

strangled at dawn.

Happiness. I try to hoist it

on my narrow shoulders again—

a knapsack heavy with gold coins.

I stumble around the house,

bump into things.

Only Midas himself

would understand."

When I finished reading I let out a long breath, before speaking again.

"So, what did you think?" I asked.

"I-I was kind of…look Cas are you ever gonna look at me?"

I was slightly taken aback by his words.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm pretty sure when you looked up at me yesterday after you fell it was the first time since freshmen year. You haven't looked at me since, not even when we were making plans."

"I'm sorry," I said, staring down at the poem.

"What, you're still not gonna look at me?"

"No, I'm not."

"Why?"

"I think you know that answer to that," I said coldly.

"I know I was kind of a dick but—

"I don't want to talk about this Dean, it's in the past. Let's get back to the poem."

"No."

"I'm here to tutor you, not to bring up what happened."

"I know that, but I can't focus when you won't look at me because you're still mad."

"I have every right to be mad at you," I said angrily, my eyes finally snapping up to meet his.

Well that was a mistake. His eyes were just as beautiful as they were back then; still wide and bright green, always showing more emotion than the rest of his face.

"You're right, you do, but I'm actually willing to talk about this. You know me, I hate talking about feelings."

"Fine. What do you want to say?"

"I didn't mean to ditch you."

I snorted.

"I swear! Everything just happened so fast. I made the baseball team at the start of the year and made new friends. You don't know what they're like Cas. They wouldn't understand."

"Understand what? That you were friends with a nobody?"

"No! Well, yeah, kind of, but I don't think you're a nobody! They just—

"You know the worst part was that you never told me why. You didn't even give me any warning. You just stopped talking to me and avoided me like the plague."

"I know—

"No! You don't!" I snarled, finally snapping and jumping up from the bed.

"You don't know anything Dean! I was alone for two years because of you! If Jo hadn't moved to town I wouldn't have any friends. You left me Dean. You were my best friend and you fucking left me!"

"I'm sorry Cas! I'm sorry," he apologized, staring up at me, eyes begging me to forgive him.

"You…you broke me heart Dean."

"I…what?"

"You heard me," I murmured.

"You mean you—

"I didn't want to tell you because I thought you wouldn't be my friend anymore, but then you stopped being my friend anyway."

"Tell me what?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"You really didn't know? God, everyone friggin knew. The reason it hurt so much was because I-I…I was in love with you," I said, the last part coming out as a whisper.

"I mean, I've always loved you, ever since we were kids. Fuck it, I still do, but back then we were best friends and I didn't want to jeopardize that."

"Cas," he started.

"You don't have to say anything Dean. I know you never felt that way. I mean, you're not even gay. But now you know and after I'm finished tutoring you, you can go back to pretending I don't exist. And I forgive you for ditching me. I understand why you did it. Let's just get back to the poem," I said, moving past him back over to the bed.

He caught my wrist and whirled me around, crushing me to his chest.

"Uh, Dean. What are you doing?

"I'm so sorry Cas. You have no idea how freakin sorry," he mumbled, lips pressed against my hair.

I pushed myself away from him, looking down at the floor.

"Please don't. I can't okay, I just…I can't."

"Do you remember that time we played truth or dare at Anna's place in eighth grade and Meg got dared to kiss you?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Remember I made some lame excuse about us having to leave before she could?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did you ever wonder why?"

"I already know why Dean. You told me you didn't want my first kiss to be because of a game and then you…" I trailed off.

"Kissed you," he finished.

"Yeah. You said the best thing is for your first to be with a friend."

"I was lying."

"What?"

"I wanted to be your first kiss because I, um, I—God I suck at this feelings crap!" he groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration.

By now my shoulder were shaking and I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

"Tell me. Please," I begged.

"I loved you."

I took a step forward.

"Loved?"

"Um, still, uh, still love."

I smiled up at him despite the tears running down my face.

"Really?" I asked.

"Really…and who said I wasn't gay?"

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. He pulled me closer by my hips, wrapping one arm around my waist, while his free hand slid up to rest gently on my cheek. The kiss was chaste, but passionate all the same as I tried to convey years of wanting into it. He responded eagerly, moving his lips against mine.

I broke away, staring up at him before trailing light kissing up his jaw. He leaned down slightly to allow easier access as I kissed across his cheeks, then down his jaw, nuzzling his neck. Obviously done with taking it slow, he slipped one hand around the back of my neck and yanked me forward, kissing me senseless. It felt surreal, having Dean kiss me like he _needed_ me. When we finally pulled back we were both gasping for breath. I ran my fingers through his hair, pressing our foreheads together.

"You can't leave me again Dean."

"I won't. You're mine now and I'm not letting you go," he murmured, tracing lazy patterns up my spine.

"I've always been yours. You're the one who had your head up your ass," I reminded him.

"Don't ruin the moment."

We laughed softy. This time when he leaned down to kiss me again I took control, sliding a hand under his shirt, relishing the way his stomach muscles fluttered under my fingers.

"Hey guys do you—Whoa! Did not need to see that!" Sam spazzed, walking into the room and quickly covering his eyes.

"You should have knocked bitch," Dean warned.

"I thought you were studying jerk."

"Sorry Sam," I said sheepishly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"What do you want anyway?" Dean asked.

"I was gonna order pizza and I wanted to ask what kind you guys wanted."

"Meat lovers for me. You still like veggie?"

"Aw, you remembered," I teased.

"Of course I did," he said, pulling me close again.

"Ugh, wait until I leave the room!"

"Better go then."

Sam quickly fled the room.

Dean and I busted up laughing.

"So, it might be a good idea to get some actual tutoring done," Dean suggested.

"I suppose, but only if you cuddle with me."

"I don't do chick-flick stuff, you know that," he said seriously.

I pouted.

"For you, I'll make an exception."

He lay back on his bed, pulling me with him. I smiled when he tried to pull me to his chest, shaking me head.

"What? I thought you wanted to cuddle," he said confused.

"I do."

I pushed him into a sitting position and slid in behind him, stretching my legs out on either side of him. He got the gist and leaned back against me. I slowly stroked his hair and he let one of his hands rest on my knee.

"Now back to the poem."


End file.
